


riscaldare

by 3rdgymbros



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: AU where Zuko joins them early, Dancing, F/M, in time for the secret dance party in season 3
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-01
Updated: 2019-07-01
Packaged: 2020-06-02 05:11:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19434613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/3rdgymbros/pseuds/3rdgymbros
Summary: They're dancing so close now that each step, twist and turn has them brushing against each other. Toph can feel the heat from his skin burning through the thin cotton of his shirt, contrasting against the chill of the spring night.





	riscaldare

The crude tables she’s fashioned out of earth bending are dotted with candles, and, according to Aang, creates a _gracious ambience._ But it’s the music that tugs at her spirits. Pipes, flutes, and drums weave complex melodies bursting with life.

At the center of it all is the dance. Bodies fly about, dipping, twirling, bowing. Laughter and shrieks of delight drift by on the air like delicate spun sugar, merging in time with the music.

“They’re really going at it, huh?” Sokka comments, still pulling at his ridiculous mustache.

Zuko, sounding very put out, and very much grouchy, “Yep.”

The newest member of their group had flatly refused a moustache, but had compromised by throwing on a silk cloak, pulling up the hood so that his scarred visage was thrown into shadows.

“They’ve got some moves,” Toph comments, idly.

Picking out Aang is too easy. He’s lighter on his feet than everyone there. For a brief second, Katara’s feet leave the floor, her laughter rings out high and clear – and _ah,_ Aang’s heart very tellingly skips a beat.

Toph bites back a smirk, and downs the rest of her cool watermelon juice.

Aang and Katara move around with rapid twists and twirls. When the song ends, and they make their bows, Toph pushes herself to her feet.

They’re good, but she’s _better_.

And she’s going to prove it.

“C’mon Sparky! Let’s dance!”

 _“Dance?”_ Zuko sounds perplexed. “Who with?”

“Duh, with _me!_ Who else, _Sokka?_ ”

“Hey!”

Not very sorry at all, Toph says, “Sorry,” and holds out her hand in a clear invitation.

When Zuko doesn’t take it, she huffs and turns away, her chest burning. “You know, if you don’t want to, you can just say no. I’ll ask Aang.”

“No, wait!” Zuko catches her before she can leave, sounding oddly flustered. “Fine, we can dance!”

Triumphant, Toph pushes through the throng of dancers, Zuko following close behind.

The next dance begins, and Zuko’s arm encircles her waist and she clasps his hand in hers. They begin to whirl in time with the pounding drums.

The world slows. The music and the ecstatic shouts of the on-looking bystanders are drowned out by the thump of her pulse, jumping through her veins. Acutely, she can feel Zuko’s heartbeat too, as if her own heart is racing alongside his.

They dance, feet flying as they follow the beat. Dizzy, but ecstatic, Toph revels in the flare and billow of her clothes, letting the music carry her in steps so fast and turns so quick she feels as though her feet are barely touching the ground.

“You’re pretty good!” Toph has to shout to be heard over the music.

“I had lessons,” He admits, the first bit of information about his life as a Fire Nation prince that he’s voluntarily told her.

She can feel the weight of his gaze on her face. Sightless green eyes stare back at golden brown ones. They’re dancing so close now that each step, twist and turn has them brushing against each other. Toph can feel the heat from his skin burning through the thin cotton of his shirt, contrasting against the chill of the spring night.

The joyful abandon of the music slows, signaling the end of the dance. For a moment, Zuko’s fingers dig into the fabric of her shirt, as if he wants to cling tighter rather than let her go. That’s when Toph senses the unfamiliar footsteps fast approaching and yells out a warning.

Later, as they make their hasty escape on Appa, she’s uncharacteristically quiet, curling up next to him and plopping her head onto his shoulder.

Her next words are whispered through her teeth, something small and secret that he needs to know. “Thanks. I had fun tonight.”

There’s a pregnant pause, right before Zuko fumbles awkwardly for her hand and gives it a squeeze. “Anytime.”

* * *

The most important event the year produces for Toph the year she turns twenty-five is Aang and Katara’s wedding.

 _It’s about damn time they tied the knot,_ Toph thinks, sipping on a flute of champagne, loving the way the bubbles tickle her nose.

What was more surprising was that _she_ , of all people, had gotten hitched before the beloved couple.

She’d married Zuko a year ago in January. It was a small and intimate wedding on a private beach in Ember Island, witnessed only by Iroh and Ursa, a ceremony hastily cobbled together at the last minute.

They hadn’t even had time to tell their friends, though she knows that she’ll have to tell them eventually.

Truth be told, it’s a conversation Toph’s not looking forward to. She can already hear Katara’s righteous indignation ringing in her ears.

They’ll have to put on a whole show for the world to see, to satisfy years of stuffy tradition and to officialise her new status as Fire Lady, but for now, she contents herself with the fact that they’d had a wedding just for _them_ , and not for the world.

The band – _“Ladies and gentlemen, The Flameos!”_ Aang had announced gleefully, right before pulling his laughing bride into the traditional first dance – strikes an upbeat tune, and nostalgic now at the familiar beat, Toph thinks back to that secret dance party in the cave, of an even more secret confession whispered too low for anyone else to hear.

Everyone celebrates all the harder; it’s been far too long since their last gathering at the Southern Water Tribe, and the wedding has given them an excuse to go all out in the ensuing celebration. The dance floor is clear, save for Aang and Katara, swaying in time to the music. Voices ricochet across the stone walls of the Southern Air Temple, making it seem like hundreds more people are there.

With a cat like grace, Zuko steals up, claiming the empty seat next to hers. “Mrs. Fire Lord.”

“Mr. Fire Lord,” Toph shoots back, her lips quirking up in amusement. She can _hear_ the sappy smile in his voice.

“You look beautiful,” Zuko says, pushing a stray strand of hair behind her ear.

She feels a rush of pleasure, and allows herself a wider smile at his remark. Blue isn’t her usual color, but she’s part of Katara’s bridal party, and that had meant discarding her usual green _qipao_ for a blue silk _hanfu_ and silver hairpins. Her feet, as usual, remain bare.

“Flattery will get you everywhere, Sparky.” Toph gropes for her glass and, leaning back, lets the alcohol meet the tip of her tongue with a surge. She sets it down on rough hewn stone with a clink, a sly smirk darting across lips glossed pink. “What do you want?”

“Dance with me,” He tells her, this time extending the invitation and, along with it, a calloused hand.

Something in the air shifts. The music kicks into full gear, people streaming onto the dance floor in a wild frenzy.

She can already feel the sky whirling, the earth giving way beneath her feet, and her toes twitch in anticipation. So she grabs his hand and lets him haul her to her feet, sweeping her skirts into a mocking curtsey.

“Lead the way, Mr. Fire Lord.”

**Author's Note:**

> I have so many ideas for these two, it's insane. Please, leave a review to motivate me to write more!


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